


Eccedentesiast: A Person that Hides their Pain behind a Smile

by orphan_account



Category: Sanders Sides, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Panic Attack, Scars, Self-Harm, blood mention, fake happy, future relationships? maybe, idk how to tag, it's back and no longer abandoned!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-06-15 05:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15406269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Patton is not okay. Everyone notices that Patton is acting odd- again. He promised to open up after the nostalgia videos, but no one is entirely sure he's keeping that promise.





	1. Panic Attack

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction ever so... I'm nervous. I haven't written a short story in y e a r s so I just kinda wanna see what happens..? I have a few ideas where this'll go and I think I've set it up so that I can take this a few ways if I change my mind. Anyway, enjoy my mediocre writing skills.

 

Patton stood in his usual spot as he had done many times before, only this time he’s alone. The others are probably off taking it easy, as Thomas had finally gotten some time to take a break from work for the day. He’s not sure why he was there; maybe it’s just to clear his head. He fidgets with his cat hoodie’s sleeves as he ponders. His room _can_ get pretty overwhelming at times. He turns around and peers through the blinds behind him. The sun was setting behind the trees, staining the sky an orange to navy blue gradient with wisps of cotton candy-colored clouds. In that moment, he felt his throat catch. He presses his eyes tightly closed and swallows hard as he presses his hand against the door. He welcomes the greeting of cool glass against his warm skin. He opens his eyes to blink back tears, but after six hard blinks, the floodgates are still threatening to burst. He continues to swallow down the tightness in his throat and blink back his sadness, but it’s not working this time. He slowly sinks to his knees, hand dragging down the glass.

Logan will scold him for the smudgy trails his fingers left, but he’ll worry about that later.

He doesn’t remember resting his forehead against the glass. He idles for a moment, almost frozen in place as he starts to tremble. It starts at his shoulders but works its way down. It reaches his hands before he realizes that he can’t control the tremors anymore. He feels his chest tighten and heart pound as he shivers violently and uncontrollably. _‘I can’t breathe,’_ he thinks as he gasps for air. He stands shakily, leaning heavily on the door, but the moment he tries to step away, his knees buckle. He’s down on all fours, frozen. _‘What’s wrong with me? It’s never been this bad before!’_ With ragged breaths and irrational thoughts, all he can do is pull his hair and tear at his scalp with his knees pulled tightly to his chest. Hoping the other sides don’t come to the living room, tears finally flood his eyes. He doesn’t realize he’s started silently weeping until it’s too late to choke it down again. There's a creak at the top of the stairs, and he freezes. After a moment of silence, he hears footsteps descending the stairs, and he doesn’t stick around long enough to see who it was.

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, he notices his tremors subsiding and heart steadying. Before he knows it, the fear has passed and replaced itself with apathy. It’s a completely new feeling, not to feel at all. He can’t stop staring at his hands, baffled as to how they’re his. He clenches them a few times to remind himself that they’re real. He decides to take a shower and see if that’ll help bring him back to reality.

He emerges from the shower into a room filled with steam feeling a little more like himself, but on his way out of the bathroom, he glances in the mirror, only to snap his gaze back to his reflection. ‘ _Is that me?!_ ’ He hardly recognizes himself. He knows it’s him- it has to be- but his eyes are distant and expressionless. That’s not what scares him the most, though; his eyes are already enough to unsettle anyone, but his face is streaked with diluted blood. ‘ _Did I really dig my nails that deep?_ ’ He checked his hands and sure enough, there were traces of blood under most of his fingernails. ‘ _The hot water must have reopened the scabs._ ’ He’s given just enough time to wash his face- again- and get dressed before Thomas calls for him, but not enough time to clean his hands more thoroughly. He hopes no one notices.

Roman and Virgil are chatting excitedly when Patton arrives, but he can hear Logan’s quiet objections over the other two - “I understand that it’s technically both a Christmas movie and a Halloween movie, I just don’t understand the juxtaposition of themes!”

“Patton! Wanna join us? We’re gonna watch The Nightmare Before Christmas!” Thomas almost has to shout it over the others.

“Of course I do, kiddo! But I’ve still got some cleanin’ up to do in case you guys wanna _pop_ in on your _pops_!” He points both thumbs at himself as he delivered the last word. He quickly puts his hands behind his back after remembering he hadn’t finished cleaning up. “It was so messy last time!” he explains with a few more of his usual emphatic facial expressions. He forces a pretty convincing grin. 

“Still cleaning?” he inquires with a hint of concern. Patton’s been cleaning a lot since recording the nostalgia videos a few days ago. “Mm-kay, well you’re welcome to join us when you finish up,” he continued with a kind smile.

“See ya la-ater, Thomas!” he stammered. This was due to the new lump in his throat, but he managed to cover it with a giggle. He felt terrible for lying again.  _‘All you ever do is lie.’_

Thomas requested that the others keep it down. He looked back to where Patton was, “Bye, Pa-” he started, but he was already gone. 

 


	2. Deductive Reasoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan notices the smudges on the glass while cleaning up after the movie and tries to figure out how they got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna play around with POV in this fic, and later time skips which will be a bit harder. Bear with me :) Enjoy my mediocre writing.

_‘That was much more frustrating than necessary,’_ Logan fumes to himself. He and Roman bickered throughout the whole film. _‘That movie was completely nonsensical,’_ he reassures himself. After washing the popcorn bowls in the kitchen, Logan heads back to the living room to clean up any messes the others left behind. Roman is the messiest person that he had ever had the displeasure of living with.

“This song is a _bop_ , okay, Logan?” Logan mocks as he recalls the things Roman snapped at him.

 _‘Okay, fine. “This is Halloween” is pretty catchy,’_   he silently admitted, but never aloud and especially never to Roman. _‘Alright, the couch is clean, what next?’_   The floor is filthy. _‘Goodness! When was the last time Thomas vacuumed? ’_ He resolves to stay until the room is in a satisfactory state of cleanliness. He has to vacuum the entire floor.  _‘How on earth did Roman manage to get popcorn all the way over to Patton’s corner?’_ He moves the blinds out of his way to reach the carpet against the door. “Ugh!” he makes a disgusted noise.  _‘Smudges on the glass too? Am I the only one that cleans in this house!?_ ’ he shrieks internally. He stomps off to grab some Windex and paper towels, not even taking the time to turn the vacuum off. He storms back angrily. He hesitates before wiping the grease away. _‘This is a few hand prints and an oval-shaped smudge... Why would someone drag their hand down the glass door?’_ he wondered. He ignores it, wipes the glass down, and continues vacuuming.

It doesn’t take much longer for him to finish tidying up, and soon he’s back in his room. He heads over to his adjustable standing desk and pulls up the Spotify track list for _The Nightmare before Christmas_ on his computer. He throws on his Bluetooth earbuds and whisks the screenplay Roman gave him off of his nightstand before sitting on his bed. He’s only read a quarter of it so far. Okay, he’s read it once already but… he needs to… correct grammatical errors. Yes, that’s why he needs to read it again. He gets a little irritated as he reads- or attempts to, that is. He’s read that paragraph three times but he’s retained none of it. _‘Something must be distracting me,_ _’_ he concludes, turning up his music to see if that helps. It doesn’t take him long to reach max volume and realize that music is not helping. He takes out his earbuds to identify what the distraction is. He can hear the music clearly from his headphones. _‘I should be more cautious; I wouldn’t want to damage my hearing._ _’_ His evening routine had been interrupted by the movie night. Something must be bothering him related to that. _‘_ _Perhaps it was the argument with Roman? No, altercations between us are almost a daily occurrence. It must be how filthy the common room was. No, cleaning is something I do almost daily as well._ _’_ He contemplates for a moment longer. _‘_ _I never did determine the cause of the smudges on the window.’_ He ruminates a little longer on the subject.

 _‘One left hand print dragged vertically from chest-level to knee-level, another elliptical smudge at hip-level to the right, and a right hand print next to that.’_ It was quite odd an arrangement. _‘_ _Someone may have fallen, wiped their hands down the door, and hit their head on the glass. No, the smeared print wouldn’t be so long and perfectly vertical. A smear like that would almost guarantee a slow, deliberate movement. Someone must have used the glass as support on the way down and on the way back up.’_ He stood and faced the wall to mime his hypothetical situation. _‘Left hand dragging down while sinking to knees slowly, resting head gently against the wall, support with right hand, stand back up.’_ He nods confidently. _‘This is the most probable scenario.'_ He sits back on his bed. _‘It couldn’t have been Virgil; his hoodie sleeves always cover his hands. It was one of the other two, probably Patton, as he spends more time by the door than Roman. Patton_ is _excessively emotional; perhaps he, in a state of heightened emotion, sank to his knees as he looked outside.’_

_'I'll discuss it with the others tomorrow.'_

Proud of himself and his deductive reasoning skills, he continues to read- er, correct- Roman’s screenplay. He’s just getting into it when there are three heavy knocks on his door followed by a robust, “Logan! May I enter?” ‘ _Oh, god. It’s Roman!_ ’ Logan’s heart rate increases slightly. ‘ _I need to turn my music off before he hears it_ !’ “Um, yes, uh just a- I’ll be there momentarily!” he shouts as he sprints over to his desk to switch the music to a podcast. “Logan, I know you don’t like to be disturbed when your door is closed, but this is rather urgent!”

“Yes, I’m coming!” Logan opens the door to an extremely worried looking Roman Sanders.

“You seem stressed; what can I help you with?”

“It’s Patton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, Lovely.


	3. I Hope He's Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil was the person on the stairs while Patton had his first panic attack. He thought he got away with hiding his meltdown, but Virgil picks up on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skips? How do those work? Let me know if this gets confusing, okay! I don't know what I'm doing.

“I _love_ that movie, of course we can have a movie night!” Thomas giggled.

“Okay, cool, see you in a bit,” Virgil shrugged.

“Living room in a half hour?”

Virgil nods with a half smile.

“See ya later, buddy.”

Virgil sank down with a little salute. He rose up in his room and walked over to the door. He closed it softly and turned around. _‘YES!!_ _’_ Virgil silently cheered. He did a little dance and punched the air a couple times. He loves this movie a normal amount. _‘Oof, that’s more exercise than I’m used to... and I haven’t had any water all day. Ugh, I should do that.’_ He reluctantly leaves his room and starts heading towards the kitchen. He makes it to the top of the staircase, but he hesitates; he hears something. It sounds kinda like...

 _‘Is that what I think it is?’_ He takes a few steps down to see if he could peek around the corner. He hesitates before letting out a small, “Hello?” He looks around the corner, but no one was there, and the room was quiet. The blinds were swishing softly. His breathing picked up a little. _‘I know what a panic attack sounds like when I hear one.’_ He wouldn’t wish a panic attack on any of his friends, not even Roman, no matter how difficult he can be. He steps down to investigate further, but he smacks directly into someone. Speak of the devil.

“Well, excuse me, Para-morose- whoa, are you alright?”

Hearing that panicked breathing was a little triggering for Virge. He was starting to hyperventilate and he could feel his pulse in his ears.

“Hey, hey, stay with me, can I touch you?” Virgil gave a subtle nod. Roman puts one hand on his cheek and the other on his waist. “Focus on my eyes, can you do that for me? Remember to breathe: 4-7-8. Okay, breathe with me.”

 _‘Breathe, Virgil. This is nothing new; it’s just a breathing exercise with Roman.’_ The two of them stay at the base of the stairs for a minute or two before he starts to calm down again.

...7...8 … “Thanks, Ro,” he says earnestly.

“What’s a prince to do? Leave a damsel in distress?” he prides himself.

“...I guess not.” Virge manages to get out between his breaths. “Can I have... a distraction?”

“Certainly! Which is your favorite song from tonight’s movie?” he inquires.

“...Obviously it’s.. 'This is... Halloween,'” he mumbled. “Isn’t that everyone’s… favorite?”

“No, not everyone- well, I mean, it’s my favorite too... however, I love all Disney songs!”

Virgil takes one last deep breath. "You can let go of me now."

"Surely."

The two talk a little while longer before Logan appears. “Excuse me,” he interrupts. 

“Hey, Logan,” the two respond in unison. 

“Which is your favorite song from tonight’s movie?” Virgil invites Logan to join the conversation.

“I have none. This movie is for children.”

Both Roman and Virgil spew several objections to the insult simultaneously and the conversation quickly becomes a lopsided debate about Tim Burton’s entire filmography; it all comes to a climax when it loops back to "The Nightmare Before Christmas."

“I understand that it’s technically a Christmas movie and a Halloween movie, I just don’t understand the juxtaposition of themes!”

“Hey, g- oh…” Thomas starts, but quickly trails off. Virgil watches Thomas slink a little farther away. He probably doesn’t want to get involved, so Virgil pretends not to see him. He also notices when Patton pops up. His hair is wet- has he always showered at night? Oh, well. He diverts his full attention back to the other two. Roman is starting to get particularly passionate.

“Hey would you guys mind bringing it down a notch?” Thomas practically shouts. “Bye, Pa-” he cuts himself off.

Patton is gone.

Virge removes himself from the conversation. “Wasn’t Pat here a second ago?” Virgil asks with a hint of concern.

“Yeah, he, uh, just has some cleaning up to do… again,” Thomas informed them.

The other two stop fighting to listen in. 

“Still? His room is cluttered but it’s not a _disaster_ ,” Virgil doubted he was still cleaning.

“I beg to differ,” Logan interjects.

“No one asked you, Neat Freak!” Roman announced. “I’m sure all is well with our dear Patton. He promised he’d open up to us; we have to let him do it on his own terms!”

“No-” Virgil begins to object, “Wait... you might be right.”

“For once,” Logan mutters to himself.

“What’d I just say, Suckrates?!” Roman exclaims.

“I shall take the comparison of myself to a classical Greek philosopher as a compliment,” he retorted with a finger pointed to the ceiling.

They continue to pester each other before and during the whole movie, but Virgil is too distracted to notice. _'_ _It was definitely Patton breathing like that downstairs. He_ has _been acting a little odd lately. It looks like he's trying to hide his feelings again.”_ He decides that he should pull Roman and Thomas aside when the movie ends- Logan doesn’t tend do well with feelings. _‘I just hope he’s alright.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Lovely <3


	4. The Monster is in his Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman gets worried about Patton and decides to investigate. Virgil opens up to Thomas for Pat's sake.

Roman got a little distracted during the movie, and it wasn’t just the judgmental comments from Logan that were bothering him. It was something that happened before the movie. Patton was there for a moment. He was too angry at the time to pay close attention, but in hindsight… Patton never said hello or goodbye to him. _‘He knows how much I love giving a grand bow and salutation, and earlier, before I talked to Virgil… I thought I’d heard ragged breath, but when I bumped into him he was only starting to hyperventilate. Could it have been someone else- could it have been Pat? Maybe something_ is _wrong. Maybe we_ should _confront him._ ’ He zones out for the last 15 minutes of the film thinking of ways to ease his concerns. He’s brought back to reality by Virgil’s gentle voice.

“Hey, can I talk to you two for a sec?” Virge politely requests after Logan stepped away to wash the popcorn bowls.

“Sure, what’s up?” Thomas replies as he gets up to put the movie back in its case.

“Actually, I need to check on someone-thing. Something,” Roman fumbles. He moves swiftly into the kitchen and disappears around the corner.

* * *

The remaining two move to Virgil’s room for more privacy. Logan probably won’t mind cleaning up alone.

 _‘That was weird._ _’_ Thomas wondered what would distract Roman like that. _‘_ _I guess he hasn’t exactly got a long attention span.’_

“I wanted to talk to you about Patton,” Virgil interrupts his thoughts, shutting his door quietly.

“I did notice him acting a little… off. Did you see how he was standing?”

“No, I hadn’t really been paying attention very closely. I saw him rise up, but he was gone when I looked back.”

“Well, he kept his hands behind his back and… well, I saw, uh…” Thomas falters. “No…” he trails off, gaze wandering to the fairy lights wrapped around the base of Virgil's room before fixating on his shoes. “I’m not sure.” He starts nervously fidgeting with his fingers. _I' really hope it wasn’t what I think it was.'_

“What? What’s wrong?” Virgil ducks down a little to see if he can get Thomas to look at him.

“I thought I saw blood on Pat’s hands- under his nails.” Thomas looks up feebly.

“What!? Are you sure it was blood? Why didn’t you say anything, Thomas? What if he isn’t safe right now?!”

“I guess I was trying to convince myself it could be paint or dirt…” he rubs his neck nervously and finally looks at Virgil. “Maybe he nicked himself while making one of his crafts. I didn’t think it was urgent, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. What do you mean ‘if he isn’t safe’? There isn’t anything that can hurt him here.”

Virgil looks down and seems to take an interest in the fairy lights as well, drawing a pattern on the carpet with the tip of his shoe.

“Virgil?” Thomas’s voice is small. Now he’s the one trying to get the other to look at him. “What do you mean? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

“...there _is_ something that can hurt him here,” he whispers meekly.

There’s a long pause.

“Virgil, what is it? What’s wrong?” Thomas says softly.

“It’s too hard to say it out loud… can I just show you?”

“Yeah, that’s no problem.” Thomas is unbelievably worried, but manages to keep an even tone. His thoughts and imagination were racing uncontrollably. He was imagining monsters and threats uncontrollably. 

Virgil takes a deep breath and rolls his left sleeve up to his elbow. He holds out his forearm out to Thomas. He hasn’t shown anyone before, but for Patton’s sake… it's worth it.

Thomas hesitates before reaching out carefully. He runs his thumb over a few of the bumpy scars. “Oh, Virgil…” Thomas’s voice breaks. “It didn’t even cross my mind that…” he can’t finish the sentence out loud. _‘Sometimes there's a monster in your head.’_

“I know, it’s okay,” he comforts him. “But we really need to go check on Pat.”

Before they can leave, there are three heavy knocks on the door. “Virgil, I can’t find Thomas anywhere!”

It's Roman.

Thomas gets the door. “Hey, we were just talk- whoa, what’s wrong?”

“I just got Logan, we need to go right now, please hurry!” Roman is clearly panicking.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” Virgil asks, tugging his sleeve down quickly.

They both hope he doesn't confirm their worst fears. 

“It’s Patton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger :/ I'll try to get the next part up soon!  
> To make up for that little stunt, I really liked this bit I wrote, but there just wasn't anywhere it would fit:  
> V: “Now is not the time for jokes; you know what I mean, Pretty Boy.”  
> R: “I know, um, sorry… wait, did you just call me pretty?”  
> “Uh, no, I said ‘petty,’ and stop deflecting the question!”  
> “Yeah sure... ‘petty’...”


	5. The Voices aren't Mean, They're Desperate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please be sure read all the notes on this one; they're important. 
> 
> Patton is conflicted, so he talks to the voice in his head. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: STRONGLY implied self-harm, thoughts of self-harm, blood mention (there's only a tiny bit of it though and it's from an accident)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on how I feel most of the time when I get the urge to self-harm. It's a little bit of a vent fic. When I'm trying to make a decision (such as whether or not I should go relapse) I'll have a little debate with myself like I'm talking to a voice in my head. The voice that's telling me to do it is almost never aggressive or mean to me, rather pleading and desperate. It's trying to find ways to ease my emotional pain, it's just doesn't usually suggest healthy ways to do it. So, when I slip up, I try not to get mad at myself. I'm taking the road to recovery in baby steps, and that's okay. See the end notes for resources you can use :)

Patton rises up and immediately flops onto his bed. He rolls over onto his stomach, and presses his face into a pillow shaped like a dog. He just wants to sleep for a thousand years.

_‘C’mon… you have to open up to them eventually.’_

_‘I know I promised them I'd reach out... but I don’t want to bother them…’_

He thinks about what happened earlier. _‘Is that what a panic attack feels like? Virgil has a panic attack weekly, at the very least. How can he live like this?’_ He looks at the blood under his nails again.

_‘How can I live like this.’_

_‘It doesn’t really feel like living, does it?’_

A few minutes later, he finally has the energy to clean his hands. He walks over to the bathroom. _‘Where did I put my nail clippers?’_ He kneels to rummage through one of the drawers under the sink. _‘Bar of soap, washcloths, extra box of razors, and- is this a broken crayon?’_ He sets all of this stuff on the floor and counter. _‘How deep is this drawer?’_ He asks himself as he lifts a stack of towels from the bottom. _‘There it is.’_

He sits down on the bathroom floor and starts to clip the ruddy tips of his fingernails. _‘I really hope Thomas didn’t see my hands earlier. I only forgot for a second. I only had my hands out for a sec-’_

 _‘Ow!’_ He wasn’t paying attention and clipped his nail too short. He holds his hand closer to inspect it. It starts to bleed a little. He stares longer than he should.

_‘…’_

He shakes his head a little before he starts to stand up. _‘I should grab a bandaid.’_ He reaches for the box of bandages blindly, unable to take his eyes off of his hand. He fumbles around a little but finds it pretty quickly. He sits back down and finally looks away from his hand to open the box.

He hadn’t looked at what he was grabbing and it seems like he’d mistaken the box of razors for the bandaids. _‘Oops.’_ He manages to reach the bandaids without standing again. He holds the bandages in his right hand and the razors in his left. It almost seems like each box is asking him to put the other down, like there's an angel and devil on either of his shoulders. His left hand draws his attention. He leans his back against the tub and pulls his knees closer to his chest.

_‘...’_

He can hear his own pulse. He sets the bandaids down so he can hold the other box with both hands in his lap.

_**‘.....’** _

He starts to get lost in thought. _‘... I should… I should go watch the movie… or...’_ His mind starts to go blank.

He slowly pops the top of the box open. His hand hovers over the opening. He hesitates before gingerly pulling a single razor out of the box.

_‘ **!!!!!** ’ _

_‘More.’_

His heart is beating fast and he’s starting to get lightheaded. His shoulders start to tremble.

_‘No no no no no! Not again!’_

_‘_ _**More.** ’ _

His shoulders are wracked with tremors. He blacks out.

When he comes to a few seconds later, he’s still in the bathroom, but now he’s standing and he's thrown his shaggy blue bathmat out the door. Something crunches under his shoe. He steps back to see what it is. It looks like he stomped on the razor. He doesn't hesitate before he's down on his knees again, moving quickly, carefully separating the broken plastic from the blades. It’s feels like he isn’t in control of his body.

_'I need to stop.’_

_'You don’t want to stop.’_

**_'I need to stop!’_ **

He doesn’t stop- not even for a second; he’s not going to give himself the chance to change his mind. He wraps a bandaid around one end of a cheap, flimsy blade to avoid accidentally cutting his hand. He unties the hoodie from around his shoulders and tosses it away- it lands in the threshold. _‘Hot. Too hot.’_ He runs his hands through his hair, messing it up in the process, and unbuttons his shirt a little more. He shimmies his pants off and flings them in the same general direction as his hoodie. He perches himself on the edge of the tub. He's grasping the blade so tightly in his right hand that his knuckles have turned white.

_‘Why am I doing this?’_

_‘You know why. You don't want to admit it.’_

He leans forward, resting an arm on each thigh. His head falls, chin almost touching his chest. His throat catches.

_‘What am I doing..?’_

_‘Please.’_

The blade is hovering above his right thigh. 

_'It's right there. Do it. Please.'_

He does. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you struggle with things like this, please take some advice from someone that also struggles with the voice in their head. It's okay to slip up every now and then. I find it helpful to remind myself that slipping up is just another part of recovery and that it doesn't make you weak. Slipping up doesn't mean that whatever treatment you're going through isn't working or that you aren't trying hard enough. I feel weird talking about this because I am absolutely not a professional, so here's a textline that I've used a couple times.  
> Text CONNECT or START to this number: 741741  
> And if calls don't stress you out, here's a number specifically for self harm: 1-800-DONT CUT (or 1-800-366-8288 and it's for any form of self harm, not just cutting)  
> LGBT hotline: 1-888-843-4564  
> These are for the USA, so if you aren't from here i encourage you to look into your local resources.  
> Be safe, lovelies.


	6. Trigger warning: graphic depictions of violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman urgently tries to reach Patton, but will he be too late??  
> (Just kidding, I hate those types of descriptions.)  
> Roman finds Patton in his room, and things get messy both literally and figuratively. It took a lot of courage for Virgil to open up to Thomas about his scars, so will he be able to open up to the others as well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the length of this got a *little* bit out of hand. I think the average chapter so far was 850-ish words, but this one is 2390... so... enjoy an extra large amount my mediocre writing... 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> Blood (like, a lot of blood), detailed descriptions of injuries (I think I'm gonna have to add 'graphic depictions of violence' to this fic's warnings)

Roman is almost sprinting to Patton’s room. _‘I’m getting so worked up; I really need to calm down.’_ He stops at Patton’s door and raises his hand to knock, but he pauses. _‘Why am I so worried? Patton forgets to say hello_ once _and I panic over it? Gosh, I’m needy.’_ But deep down he knows that that isn’t why there’s a pit in his stomach. Something still feels incredibly... wrong. He knocks surprisingly gently on the door.

“Hello, Patton. May I enter?” his voice is calm.

No response. Roman’s heart skips a beat and his chest feels heavy.

“Pat? It’s Roman. I wish to see you. Is everything alright..?”

There’s a solid fifteen seconds of silence. Roman has no idea what to do. _‘Should I… just go in? No, I shouldn’t violate his privacy. I’m getting all worked up over nothing. He’s probably just asleep… at 9:30 PM.’_ He raises his hand for one last knock, but decides against it. _‘I’ll just talk to him about this tomorrow. I’m sure everything is fine,’_ he lies to himself.

Roman reluctantly turns around to head back to his room, but just then there’s a very loud crash followed by a thud behind the door. He swivels around on his heel so quickly that he almost falls over. _‘Oh, god! Oh, no! He’s definitely not asleep!’_ He grabs the knob, but it won’t turn. _‘Why would he lock his door?’_ “Patton!” he yells desperately. Shaking the handle vigorously, he shouts, “Patton!! Please open the door!” _‘Oh my god, why isn’t he answering the door??!!’_

He steps back and takes a deep breath. _‘Okay, stay calm. You can do this... 1… 2… 3!’_ He kicks just under the handle with his heel. The door swings open so hard that it bounces off of the stopper and swings shut again. He throws the door open and runs into the room. Everything looks almost exactly the same as the last time he was here, which makes it very clear that Patton hasn’t been spending all of his time cleaning.

_‘The bathroom!’_

There’s a small, crumpled rug sprawled out about five feet from the bathroom entrance, and there’s a pair of pants that have been tossed near it. Roman edges closer nervously. The door is open just a crack; it’s not shut all the way because Patton’s cat hoodie is in the way. _‘He would wear that thing in the shower if he could. Why would he toss it onto the ground and just leave it there?’_ The bathroom light is on.

“... Pat?” he calls softly. “Pat, are you okay in there?” he asks, but he already knows the answer. _‘Oh god oh god oh god.’_

He pushes the door open a little. He can see that the mirror against the left wall is broken and that the counter beneath it is covered with broken glass and pieces of a broken razor. And on the ground is- _‘Oh, my god! That’s a hand!’_

He quickly opens the door the rest of the way. Patton is sprawled out on the floor; he’s clearly unconscious. He has a gash on his forehead and his bottom lip is split. Roman runs over and drops to his knees halfway there so that he slides the rest of the way to Patton’s side. He doesn’t care that he’s kneeling on broken glass.

He holds Patton’s face in his hands pleading, “Patton! _Patton!_ Patton, please wake up! Patton!” He presses his forehead to Patton’s and only partially contains a sob. He glances around the room. There are towels strewn about the floor, so he reaches for one by Pat’s thigh to put under his head. He freezes- Pat’s legs… his legs are covered with dozens and dozens of perfectly horizontal cuts _all the way down his thighs_. There’s so much blood... _there’s so much_ _blood._

 _'Okay, okay, stay calm.'_ There are a lot cuts, but none of them look too deep. Most of them have already scabbed over.He pauses. Patton’s other hand is holding something. He peels his fingers off of… whatever this is. It looks like a tiny razorblade with one of his little, blue heart-shaped bandages wrapped around it. Patton must have clenched his fist around it when he fell because he has a little gash in his palm. Roman still can’t move.

_‘Oh, Patton- sweet, kind, selfless Patton. How could you do this to yourself?’_

He finally snaps out of it and reaches for the large towel farthest from the broken glass. He places it gently under Patton’s neck to prop it up and holds his ear above his nose. _‘His breathing sounds normal.’_ He scoops Patton up princess style and skillfully maneuvers him through the door frame. He somehow manages to knock enough of Patton’s pillows off of the bed so that he can lay him down on a flat surface. Patton’s skin is pale and dewy, but his forehead feels hot. Roman runs to the bathroom, grabs a clean washcloth, and wets it down with cold water. He drapes it gently over Pat’s forehead.

Roman’s heart is still racing and he doesn’t know what to do with himself so he glances around the room. He wonders if the others know that Patton hasn’t been spending all of his time cleaning...

_“Oh god, the others! I have to get the others!’_

His body jolts and he dashes out of the room.

* * *

He quickly collects the other three and leads them back to Patton’s room. They all stand around Patton’s bed. Roman explains everything he knows, and everyone shares which warning signs they’d all seen and regret not mentioning sooner: the smudges on the glass, the suspected panic attack, the bloody fingernails. When everyone is finished sharing, none of them are sure of what to say or do.

Virgil is visibly clenching his teeth. He’s gone even paler than he already is and he’s staring grimly at the cuts on Pat’s legs. He tugs his left sleeve down even further and holds his elbow.

Logan is scanning Patton up and down over and over again. He keeps reaching out towards Patton’s hand, but it seems like he isn’t quite sure what he’s trying to do.

Thomas’s left hand is holding his right side, and his other hand is covering his mouth. Roman can’t tell if he’s going to be sick or start sobbing.

No one moves.

Roman gets lost in thought. _‘This feels like a fairytale tragedy; if it is one, does that make me the hero?’_ He’s always dreamed of being a hero, the handsome prince, the character everyone adores for their acts of heroism and bravery, but this... this doesn’t feel good. No one ever talks about just how scary it is to be the hero. They get all the attention at the end, but at what cost do heroes get their fame? Heroes have to overcome any and all adversity; they have to lose something. They might have to have their heart broken, they might have to sacrifice their life to save another, and sometimes- his eyes flick from the washcloth on Pat’s forehead to his thighs- sometimes a loved one might get hurt. It feels like there’s a fist around his heart. _‘Maybe I don’t deserve to be the hero...’_

He glances around the room once more. Everyone is petrified, and no one seems to be able to move.

_‘No. It’s not about what I deserve- it’s about what I’m willing to do. I’m scared, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be brave. I’m going to be the hero of this story- I have to be. Everyone else is too worried to do much of anything, even Logan, so someone needs to take the lead.’_

“Logan- first aid. How much do you know?”

His mouth opens and closes a couple times like he can’t get any words out; his gaze is fixed on Pat’s hand. “Uh… I…” he starts. He sniffles and clears his throat. He finally looks away from Patton. “My apologies” -he adjusts his tie- “I have mastered basic first aid, which is all I believe we will need to properly dress his wounds.”

Roman turns to Thomas. “Thomas, are you going to be alright?” He hasn’t taken his hand from his mouth since he entered the room.

He stops holding his mouth, but his hand is still hovering in front of it. “...I-I-” he stops. “I ca-can’t-’ he stops again and presses his hand back to his lips with his eyes closed. Roman notices his grip tighten on his side. He runs towards the bathroom- looks like he was going to be sick after all.

“Wait! Don’t go in-”

Thomas pushes the door open and gasps. He stops dead in his tracks. He has to put a hand on the door frame to keep from falling over. He starts to whisper. “ _Oh, my g-”_ his voice breaks and he lets out a quiet sob. “Oh, my _god_ ,” he says a little louder. He covers his eyes with his free hand and cries quietly. “I should have said something sooner. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d just _said_ something!” he wails as he angrily gestures towards the mess in the bathroom. He presses his forehead to his forearm, which is now resting against the frame.

Virgil is at Thomas’s side in an instant. He takes Thomas’s hand into his before sternly stating, “Thomas, this is _not_ your fault. This is _nobody’s_ fault. We all feel guilty, but we don’t have the luxury of blaming ourselves right now.” Thomas leans into Virgil’s chest, who stiffens for a moment before reciprocating the embrace. Thomas weeps against his friend’s chest, and Virgil feels a few tears falling down his own cheeks and into Thomas’s hair.

 _‘Maybe Virgil should be in charge…’_ Roman considers. He looks over at Logan, whose eyes are fixed on Patton’s hand again, but he actually reaches out to hold it this time. He looks completely emotionless until Patton, in his unconscious state, reflexively grasps Logan’s hand back. It looks like Logan is attempting to maintain that façade, but his eyebrows slightly furrow and his eyes fill with tears. He clenches his jaw tightly, inhales deeply, then closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he looks up at Roman. “How long has Patton been unconscious?”

“What time is it now?”

“It is 9:38 PM.”

“He’s been out for eight minutes or less.”

“We should dress some of his injuries in the meantime until he wakes up.” Logan scans over Pat one more time. “Hmm. Well, we’ll definitely need a few things to clean the bathroom. As for medical supplies, I’m not entirely sure, but my best estimated minimum has to be-”

“I’ve got it covered,” Virgil abruptly interrupts, starting to make his way out of the room.

“What do you mean you’ve got it covered?” Roman is confused.

“What I mean is that I’ve got it covered,” he says over his shoulder.

Logan and Roman look at each other and then to Thomas for answers.

His expression almost looks guilty. “Uh… he’ll probably explain later. It’s not my place to tell you. Let’s focus on Patton right now.”

Virgil comes back less than thirty seconds later holding a large plastic bin full of medical supplies- far more items than Logan would have listed. Virgil sets the bin on the floor and starts unpacking all of it: large containers of burn salves and antibacterial ointments, five large spools of gauze, three rolls of medical tape, a couple of ace bandages, a few bottles of rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide. He continues to unpack even more things, but the longer he spends placing items in front of him in an order only he knows, the farther Logan and Roman’s mouths drop. Even Thomas is surprised when Virgil pulls out needles and dissolvable sutures.

“Okay, so he’s going to need three stitches in the cut directly above his left knee”-he gestures vaguely, but it’s obvious which one he’s talking about- “and one in the cut on his left hand; it’s small but deep.”

“Wait, Virgil?” Roman tries to get his attention but fails.

“Not now, Roman.

“Virgil!” He sounds offended.

“Ro, not right now. He’ll be waking up fairly soon, and I want to get all of this done while he’s still out. You know how he gets around needles.”

“Now, wait just a moment, Virgil!” Logan insists. “What’s going on? Why do you have all of this stuff? How do you know all of this?”

Virgil exhales heavily. “There isn’t enough time to explain everything right now, okay? I promise I’ll tell you after we finish taking care of Pat.”

With that, he continues to ramble about how everyone is going to help take care of Patton. They’re completely entranced by his medical expertise. Virgil starts by having everyone take a washcloth wet with warm water and gently- _gently_ \- wiping the dry blood off of Patton’s legs while he picked the little pieces of glass out of the cut on his forehead with a tweezers.

No one speaks; they work in total silence. Everyone seems to work in perfect harmony- a monumental task. Roman can’t recall a time when they all worked so well together. _‘It’s a shame we can only get along when something truly awful happens.’_

Virgil snips the thread of the last suture. “Done.”

Everyone finally stops holding their breath.

Roman meets Virgil’s eyes. “So… care to explain?”

Virgil lets out a long sigh. “Yeah. I was talking to Thomas about it a little earlier- it was right before you came to get us.” Thomas confirms this with a nod. “I… I’ll just do what I did earlier. It’s just… hard. Especially because these lights are so much brighter.” He grabs bottom of his hoodie and takes a deep breath before shouldering it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. Also, being unconscious from a head injury should NOT take 10+ minutes to wake up from but I didn't know how to write this while he was awake.


	7. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil explains his scars. Logan... I love him... he tries so hard to hide his feelings. Patton wakes up.  
> Trigger warning: vague past self-harm description

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's a little later than usual my dudes. I love Angst and I'm making you all Deal With It.

“I don’t really remember when I started… all of this, but I finally decided I wanted to stop 2 years ago.” Virgil clutches his hoodie to his chest and avoids any eye contact. “I’ve been completely clean for about nine months now, which is the longest I’ve ever gone without it… I was going to tell you eventually, but- no surprise- I was pretty anxious about it.” He lets out a small nervous chuckle. He’d gone through every possible scenario and reaction, but eventually landed on this: someone would walk in on him while he was changing and get the others. Thomas would be speechless, Patton would cry, Roman wouldn’t understand and possibly even get a little angry (mostly with himself), and Logan would ask a thousand questions. In general, he expected some form of horrified concern from everyone. He didn’t expect them to react like this… to react so calmly.

Roman’s tone is unusually soft. “These scars… some of them look different. Would you mind explaining them..? Are there more?” It almost seems like he’s talking to himself. Roman realizes that his staring was making Virgil squirm and his eyes snap away from the scars immediately. He speaks quickly, “I mean, if you’re comfortable with sharing, of course- I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable!” He looks ashamed of himself. “You don’t have to tell us if you’re not ready to talk about it.”

“No, no! It’s fine! And uh, well, there’s… yeah, there’s more...” He contemplates for a moment. “Yep, fuck it. I’m still in too much shock to care.” Everyone freezes in surprise as Virgil takes his pants off. His thighs are littered with scars as well. He lifts his shirt up, but not off, to show them his left side; there are only a few scars there. He’s remarkably calm; he thought he’d be halfway through a panic attack by now. He puts his pants back on. 

“Are any of them from accidents?” Thomas wonders aloud.

“Yeah, a couple are from accidents.” He tilts his head to think for a second. “Oh! like these,” he holds out his right hand and points to a few small scars in a line across his knuckles. He smiles at his hand. “Patton-” he starts excitedly but quickly stops. He remembers that Patton is lying on the bed less than five feet away and his smile dissipates. “Patton wanted me to help with dinner,” he laughs sadly, “but my hand slipped while I was using the cheese grater.”

Logan clears his throat and looks down at his feet. “This would explain why you have...” he coughs once and rubs his eye. After a short pause, “Uh, why you have collected all of these medical supplies, and-” Logan stops talking altogether and turns so no one can see his face. He bites a knuckle softly. “Excuse me for a moment.” Logan tries to step out of the room, but Virgil touches his wrist gently on his way past.

“Logan.”

Logan stops walking but doesn’t turn around. Virgil’s hand stays on his wrist.

“Hey, look at me, Logan… are you alright?”

His voice is strained and he refuses to look back. “Yes. Please… I’d just- I’d like to leave for a moment. I’m fine.”

“... no you’re not, Lo.”

Logan suddenly jerks around back and rips his arm away from Virgil’s gentle touch. The group jumps at the sudden movement and the maniacal look in his eyes. “No, I don’t have a choice! I _have_ to be okay! It is absolutely essential that I keep these- these- these _emotions_ in _check!_ I need to be the rock of this family- the voice of reason. If this is enough to make _me_ lose control, how will I be able to take care of everyone else?! You all feel so much more than I do and if I’m this- this utterly _heartbroken_ , how do all of _you_ feel right now?!” He marches for the exit, chest heaving, but he freezes the moment his hand reaches the knob.

From across the room, there’s a quiet grunt. “Ugh…”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Patton’s eyes flutter.

No one moves.

Roman is closest to his side, so he gently takes Patton’s hand.

“It’s so bright,” he groans.

“You can keep your eyes shut, Pat,” Roman says softly.

Being as quiet as possible, Roman gestures for the other three to leave. Logan opens his mouth to speak, but Virgil pushes him through the door before he gets the chance to. Thomas follows silently, flicking the lights off on his way.

After a few moments of stillness, Roman whispers, “Hey, buddy.”

Patton’s eyes are shut tightly as if even the dim lighting from the hallway is too much. With a groan, he asks, “What happened?”

“You hit your head, Pat. How much do you remember?”

He can’t seem to speak louder than a mumble. “... it’s coming back a little.”

“That’s okay; take your time.”

Patton squints and takes the washcloth off of his forehead. He props himself up a little against the headboard with a little help from Roman. Pat rubs his forehead but freezes when he sees his legs. Roman can see the realization in his expression as his memories flood back.

Patton starts taking shorter breaths and tries to let go of Roman’s hand.

Roman grips a little tighter before sitting next to him on the bed. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, buddy. I’m not upset with you. I promise. You don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to.” Patton looks down. Roman gently pulls his chin up. “Can I give you a hug?”

He nods as he leans his head against Roman’s chest.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He rubs Pat’s back lightly.

* * *

 

Logan, Virgil, and Thomas wait awkwardly in the living room. Thomas keeps nodding off

After several minutes of weird tension, Logan speaks up. “Thomas, it’s incredibly late; you need to rest.”

His eyes open. “But I want to talk to Pat-”

“Thomas, your feelings have literally been hurt; I believe it would be in his and your best interest if you were to rest.”

Thomas lets out a frustrated breath and looks to Virgil.

“Don’t look at me; he’s right. You must be exhausted.”

“... I guess you guys are right.” Thomas rubs his eyes and stands hesitantly. “Will you at least tell him I love him?”

The two nod gently in unison.

He waves good night— Logan and Virgil generally don’t like to be touched— and heads upstairs to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK for read! I'd love feedback bc I'm 100% new to this. Any comments (as long as they're constructive) will be gladly accepted. :)


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